A week ago, I decided to take a nap, as you do. My brain, being the assbutt that it is, decided to entertain itself while I was snoozing. As a result, I woke up with an image in my head of a dragon swooping down and plucking a man off a road. But the dragon doesn’t eat him, oh no. It’s mating season, don’t you know, and the dragon has other things in mind.
Problem is, the guy is a priest. And dragons, after they shift to human form for the mating bop, traditionally kill their partners so that their souls will pass into their offspring, otherwise said offspring will not be able to shift to dragon form. My subconscious is a dank and weird place, I swear.
An hour later I had the first book in a trilogy worked out. Problem? It’s dark. Dark de dark dark dark. As in incest, patricide, quasi bestiality, rape, all in a high fantasy package. We’re talking Game of Thrones meets Kushiel’s Dart. Oh, and did I mention I don’t DO high fantasy. Why you do this to me, brain?